


Whoops

by reillyblack



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, soulpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 01:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1532018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reillyblack/pseuds/reillyblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas accidentally knocks Dean’s soul up with a grace baby</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sure, Cas was weird.  But, this was… this was  _weird._  

Dean blinked awake to Cas over him, running his hands through Dean’s hair and staring down at him with that intense expression he usually reserved for right before he stabbed something. 

For a first morning after, it was a little unsettling.

“Morning," Dean tried, skin prickling under Cas’ killer eyes.  He shifted under the covers to lay on his back, his stomach weirdly queasy.

"How do you feel?"

"Uh."  Dean rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. "Well, a little sore, but that comes with the territory, right?  Nothin’ I can’t handle." 

"No, not that.  How do you  _feel_ , Dean?”  Cas searched his eyes, his expression somehow intensifying. 

Dean sighed.  Was that what Cas wanted from him?  Alright, it was even more embarrassing, but, "Yeah, Cas, I love you too.  We talked about this last night," Dean grunted, as quiet as he could possibly make his voice. 

Castiel’s expression softened but still didn’t lose all its edge.  Dean was starting to wonder if the angel was constipated or something.  Could angels get constipated?

"Thank you, Dean.  I love you too.  However, that is also not what I was referring to."

"Ok, Cas, cut the cryptic.  What’s up?"  Dean braced himself for the unexpected, as he usually did in conversation with the angel, propping himself up on his elbow so he could level with Cas’ unnerving stare.  

"You are… with child."

Dean blinked.  He blinked again.  

"Excuse me?"

"I did not realize it would happen unintentionally when one of the partners is not angelic.  Usually it requires both partner’s consent, but it seems a human soul is more volatile than an angel’s grace."

"Whoah, whoah, whoah, back up. I’m a dude. I don’t get pregnant, Cas. Your baby radar is way off."

"This is not a physical pregnancy, Dean; it’s a spiritual pregnancy. Your soul was seeded by mine when we made love last night."

"Seeded— what?  _What?_    _You baby Jesus’d me_?!”  Dean suddenly started paying attention to exactly “how he felt”, as Cas put it.  His stomach was queasy, his ass ached a bit of course, but other than that he was… itchy.  Everywhere.  He’d thought his skin was prickling because of Cas’ murder stare, but it was still prickling without it, like the air around him was about to crackle with energy at any moment.  

"I didn’t know it would happen!  Usually, both partners must have the intention to conceive.  Human and angel sexual relations are frowned upon in heaven, so they weren’t exactly on the curriculum for angel sex ed."

"Do you seriously have angel sex ed?" An image of Cas in the back of a classroom not paying attention as they handed out grace condoms hit Dean and distracted him from the matter at hand. 

"Not exactly.  There’s scripture."

"Ok, back to the important point here— I’m  _pregnant_?  How the fuck can you even tell? I mean seriously, Cas, I got nothing here but a full body rash thing, and…”  Dean needed to be out of that bed.  He shoved the covers off and pushed himself to his feet.

"And?"  Cas pressed, grabbing at Dean’s forearm to keep him from going too far and leaning in, his blue eyes laser-like in their focus on Dean. 

"…and this bubbly, happy feeling in my my chest that— what the fuck even is that, Cas, maternal fucking joy?"  Dean growled, starting to really freak out.

"Something like that, yes.  Your soul is full.  You’re glowing, to angels anyway.  It’s amazing—"

"Did you just  _say I’m glowing_? Oh, hell no.  I am not some delicate pregnant lady you need to flatter—”  Dean could tell he sounded almost hysterical, but he couldn’t calm himself down, not in this situation.

"No, Dean. Physically glowing. I can see how the soul is working to grow the other, the child.  It is beautiful, all white light and blue sparks.  It must feel amazing. If we were both angels, we could have discussed who would carry the child, but it is best that it worked out like this.  I must be at full strength to protect you from others who would wish to harm it, and I would be weakened if it were I who carried her."

Dean suddenly felt very naked under Cas’ analytical gaze. He grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around his middle. 

"Her?  _Her?_  You know the sex all of five minutes after you told me I’m  _growing an angel in my soul?_ "  Dean was shouting now. He was dreaming, that was the only explanation.  Any second he would wake up and Cas would be next to him, and even though Dean insisted he wasn’t a cuddler Cas would cuddle him for a few minutes and it would be a nice and normal first morning after, and then they’d get up and make breakfast for Sammy.  Any second. 

"Angels are sexless, but humans are not. I believe it’s a her, but I won’t be certain until she’s born," Cas explained, seeming more and more guilty with each passing second. 

And there it was.   _Born._  

"Exactly how do you expect me to "birth" this thing?" Dean whispered, his panic escalating to ambulance alarm levels. Cas swallowed.

"She will swell and grow, and you will feel fatigued for a while. When she is ready, she will burst from you, fully formed."

"Burst from me?   _Burst from me?_   Cas.  Say more.  Now,” Dean demanded. 

"You will survive, don’t worry," Castiel reassured him. 

"Oh, well!  I’ll  _survive_. This is unbelievable.”  Dean wanted to punch Cas in the face.  It wasn’t his fault obviously— it was both their faults— but Cas didn’t have something that was going to  _burst from him_  in… however long it took to gestate a soul baby. 

"Dean!  Dean, are you ok?"  Sam chose that moment to burst into Dean’s room, demon knife in hand, breathlessly searching for an attacker.  His eyes landed on Dean standing with nothing but a sheet wrapped around his waist and Cas naked in bed and he physically recoiled into the wall by the door. 

"Jesus, Sam!"  Dean threw one hand up, the other still clutching the sheet to his hips.  Well, the cat was out of the bag on one half of his relationship with Cas.  Now to break the actually shocking news. 

"Uh.  You shouldn’t— you shouldn’t yell like that, I thought someone was trying to kill you." Sam blushed furiously, his eyes glued to the wall on the opposite side of Cas and Dean’s mostly naked bodies. 

"Cas knocked me up!"  Dean threw an accusatory glare at Castiel. 

Sam gaped.

Castiel shrank down in guilt. 

"It wasn’t intentional," he insisted, bright red spots high up on his sharp cheekbones. 


	2. Chapter 2

Cas was standing outside Dean's door with a plate of toast and tea when Sam rounded the hall corner. Just standing, not making any sort of move to knock or make his presence known.

"Hey Cas, you need some help?"  Sam offered tentatively, perpetually confused by the angel's behavior. 

"Dean still will not let me inside."

Sam glanced at the stubborn door. 

"You tried the knocking thing?"

Castiel shot him an annoyed look. 

"Of course."  He turned back to moping and eyeing the door. "His tea is cold now." He lamented pitifully. 

"Isn't he on, like, bed rest?  Why is he still being so pissy?"

"I wished to copulate with him again and he was very displeased.  He banned me from the room and will not accept food as an apology."

Sam blinked and pushed down his instinctual revulsion at the idea of his brother and anyone "copulating".  He was Cas' only reference for human interaction, he had to help the poor guy out. 

"If he's on bed rest, you should probably save the copulating for another time, don't you think?"  Sam said gently, trying to sound reasonable. 

"It would be best for Dean if we made love as often as possible.  My grace will seed his and contribute to the growing of the second soul.  The more we make love, the more angelic character our child will have, as Dean cannot provide the right ingredients, if you will, for the grace of the child.  Beyond that, Dean is irresistible to me right now.  The mating bond is strong-- he has a piece of me in him-- and our lovemaking would be... indescribable.  I have only ever heard of the ecstasy of it from other mated couples, but obviously I had never had occasion to experience it."  Castiel toed at the ground with an expression reminiscent of a moping child.  "I don't understand why he is making it so difficult.  He would benefit from the more intense orgasms as well, and the child would grow faster if I contributed my grace."

It was officially too weird for Sam.

"Ok, well.  Good luck with that." Sam bailed.  

He felt bad for abandoning Cas, so he turned halfway down the hall and whispered, 

"Cas, a tip-- he prefers burgers to toast."

Cas smiled. 

"Thank you, Sam."

* * *

 

"Dean."  Castiel called softly, "Dean, I brought you your favorite; I brought you a burger from that diner in Milwaukee."

Silence. 

"There's extra pickles."

More silence. 

Then the door creaked slowly open, revealing one suspicious green eye. 

"No getting handsy."  The eye glared at him. 

"I will not... get handsy."  Castiel solemnly swore, Dean retreated back to his bed from the door, leaving it ajar for Castiel to crack open and edge inside.  

It smelled wonderful in Dean's room.  Dean smelled like... he smelled like mate.  But Castiel was not allowed to "get handsy" so he kept a few feet of distance between himself and his dining mate. 

"Thanks."  Dean muttered around another mouthful of burger. 

"Do you forgive me now?"  Castiel wondered.  Dean seemed significantly less miffed now that he had a burger in his hands. 

"Of course not.  You knocked me up, dude."  Dean scoffed.  "I'm going to need more than one burger to get over that.  I'm exhausted, like, constantly.  I  can't get anything done-- and I've got shit to do, monsters to hunt.  It's dangerous for Sammy to hunt on his own."

"I will accompany him on every hunt until you give birth."

"Ok.  We need to call it something different than 'giving birth" because..."  Dean shuddered, wiping ketchup from his mouth with a napkin. "Yeah, not a pleasant image for me."

"Until you deliver?"  Castiel posed. 

Dean considered him. 

"Alright, that's a bit better I guess."

"You know, if you want to speed the process along..."  Castiel started, watching Dean carefully as his mood immediately darkened. 

"No!  You'll knock me up with another one of these things!"  Dean glared at him. 

"Dean, I wish you would refrain from calling our child a 'thing'."  Castiel said quietly, hurt.  Dean softened immediately. 

"Shit. I'm just--"  Dean shook his head, carding a hand through his hair. "This is too weird for me, Cas."

"I understand.  But you will be a father soon, so you need to get over it."  Castiel said reasonably, crouching by the bed and holding onto Dean's knee. 

Dean stared at him. Then he burst out laughing. 

"Thanks, Cas.  Yeah. 'Get over it.'"  He shook his head, still laughing. "I'll do that." 

Castiel sat in comfortable silence with Dean, one hand on his knee, as Dean finished his meal.  Then he moved his plate over to his bedside table. 

"I can't knock you up again, Dean."  Castiel said carefully.  Dean glared at him in response. 

"You didn't think you could the first time, so yeah, I don't trust that."

"I am very confident that it would be impossible.  Angels cannot carry twins.  Making love is how we grow children, what few we have.  Humans, also, cannot conceive another child while they are with child.  We are quite safe."

Dean scoffed loudly, but he seemed to actually consider it. 

"Alright, I'll make you a deal.  You check your angelic sex ed textbooks--"

"The scripture?"

"Yeah, the scripture!  Check that, and if it says  _explicitly_  there's no chance I could end up with another baby bump, then I'll  _consider_  it."  Dean crossed his arms stubbornly. 

Ok. Ok, Castiel could manage that. He beamed at Dean and leaned in for a kiss which Dean, at first hesitantly, returned. 


	3. Chapter 3

They were watching Game of Thrones and Dean was drooling over the dragons when Castiel appeared at the door, his eyes immediately locked on Dean.  

"Hey Cas, what's the word?"  Dean asked, actually in a good mood after watching "that dick Joffrey" die a brutal death. 

"Sam, you should probably exit the room now."  Castiel's eyes left Dean for all of half a second to acknowledge Sam's presence.  Cas was already striding toward the bed, loosening his tie and dropping his trench coat to the ground in swift, deliberate motions.  

Sam lept up from the comfy chair as Cas crawled onto the bed with Dean without hesitation.  

"Oh, son of a--"  Dean muttered, scrambling up against the headboard.  "What are you  _doing_?"  He protested, his eyes on Sam and his cheeks flaring bright red. 

"We are, in explicit terms, very safe from repeated accidental conception.  I checked."  Castiel explained, throwing a leg over Dean's hips and leaning to press eager kisses on Dean's surprised mouth. 

Sam was almost running for the door at that point. 

"Cas, will you just hold the fuck up for two second?"  was the last thing Sam heard Dean laugh as he bolted through the door and shut it hard behind him. 

They were not quiet.  In fact, Sam was fairly certain it was the loudest sex he's ever been in the vicinity of, including his own sexual experiences.

Sam checked in on Dean about once a day after that, tentatively knocking at the door and waiting for Cas to magic the room back in order, or magic them clothes or something because half the time it's wrecked and the other half the time it's spotless, but Dean always has this happy, sated look on his face when Sam cautiously peaks in through the door to check he's still alive. Cas must have used his funky angel magic to soundproof the room after that, thank god, because Sam was sure they didn't actually get quieter.   

Dean didn't look any different physically, but Cas would stare at him from time to time and nod his head approvingly.

"She is growing well."  He said one day after squinting at Dean for several minutes.  Apparently, as little as Sam liked to think about it, Dean was less exhausted with Cas... contributing... to the growth of the nephilim. Enough that he had the energy to come downstairs for breakfast, anyway. 

Dean looked unsettled but he didn't say anything.  He poured himself more orange juice.

"Can you feel it?  Uh, I mean her?"  Sam asked, correcting himself after Cas' face fell in disappointment.  They still routinely called her an 'it', but Cas hated that. 

"She's just an invisible energy mosquito right now, Cas. Sorry, It's hard to wrap our heads around.  Human babies are much more..."  Dean searched for the word and Sam helped him out with, "tangible?"

"Yeah, yeah.  We can see and feel them.  I can't even, uh, 'sense' her as you call it.  I'm just pooped 24/7, that's all I know."

"You can, though.  You said you had strong maternal feelings for her." Cas argued, clearly upset.  He crossed his arms.

"Uh, paternal.  Paternal feelings.  I'm no mommy."  Dean corrected him immediately.  "You are not teaching her to call me mommy!"  He glared at Cas, pointing sternly. 

"Of course."  Sam could have sworn he saw a shit-eating grin flicker over Cas' mouth. "Of course you're a father as well, Dean." 

Dean rolled his eyes and shoved more bacon in his mouth. 

* * *

 

It took about four months.  Cas slept in Dean's room-- well, "slept"-- and Dean had to admit, his exhaustion was far less when Cas was around, even if he was just sleeping peacefully, curled up against Dean's back.  

Cas liked to stare at him even more than usual, and the usual amount was a lot.  Dean had no choice but to get used to it. Cas would squint intensely at him, but not really  _at_  him, as though he were trying to see through Dean, which admittedly was probably exactly what he was doing.  Dean would read or do laundry or listen to music as Cas sat and stared for minutes at a time, completely unmoving, just an intense statue of fatherly intent. 

Dean started to think more of it as a 'her'; not as much because of the happy gushy feeling in his chest, but more from the way Cas would talk about her.  Dean started to wish he could see her like Cas could see her, even if she was just white and blue sparks of energy as Cas described.  Cas was enthralled with Dean and with the child, and Dean woke up more than once to Cas mumbling praise to them both as he pressed gentle kisses to the top of Dean's head.

Still, he was simultaneously terrified and relieved when one day Cas announced as they picked out Q-tips and shampoo in the grocery store,

"It's almost time, Dean.  We should get you back to the bunker immediately."

Dean gaped at Cas' sudden shift to mega intense, FBI body gaurding the president sort of attitude as he stepped closer to Dean and once over'd the grocery store as though scanning for people he should murder.   

"What?  Now?"  Dean asked, and he was glad Sam was off in the dairy department searching for his hippie yogurt so he didn't hear the fearful squeak in Dean's voice. 

"Yes.  Now.  Sam can meet us, but I must take you right at this moment before it becomes dangerous for everyone here."

He touched Dean's shoulder and suddenly they were in Dean's room. 

"Give a guy a chance to text his brother."  Dean grumbled as he whipped out his phone. 

A blinding pain suddenly whited out his whole world. He was certain someone was trying to tear his body in two, and the agony was almost too much to bear. 

Then, like a wave receding, it dimmed enough that Dean could register that he was on the bed, Cas was next to him propping his head up on pillows, and he was sweating through his jacket. 

"Hot."  Dean managed. The next second it was gone, everything but his boxers, and Cas' piercing blue eyes hovered, concerned, in his swimming vision. 

"Is that better?"  His low gravelly was soothing against the ebbing sensation of agony threatening to return. 

"Fuck, Cas. I really got the bum end of this deal."  Dean muttered, grabbing for Cas' hand as another wave of pain swept through him.

"It will not last long, Dean."  Cas reassured him. Dean appreciated Cas' voice frequently, if silently, but contrasted to the sensation of nails being pounded into his spine and head it was especially wonderful to hear.

"It better no-- aaaAAAHH!"  Dean broke off into a yell as another wave of nausea and the inexplicable  _tearing_  feeling ripped through him again. 

Castiel was muttering to himself in Enochian when Dean next came to, his eyes glowing white as looming, jet black wings seemed to materialize out of the hot air of the room, cocooning around Dean protectively.  Dean would never admit to clutching at Cas' for support, but shit. It hurt like a  _bitch_.   

Whatever Cas was doing, it helped.  Dean could breathe again. 

"I should have taken those damn lamaze classes."  Dean managed, earning nothing but a look of pure confusion from Cas before he decided to ignore him and return to his Enochian chanting. 

Dean didn't know how long it lasted, bearing the waves of  _tearing_  and  _shifting_  and other bizarre feelings he didn't even know he could have before that.  They weren't entirely bodily, though his body reacted as though he were being tortured; he was sweating profusely, shaking, and he couldn't have gotten to his feet even if he tried.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

Cas' eyes went wide as Dean panted, shaking on the bed, and looked around in confusion. 

"Oh.  Oh, it's beautiful, Dean."  Cas whispered, tears in his eyes and awe in his gaze as he stared straight through Dean.

The agony him him as though he were falling through the air and didn't even realize until he crashed into a hard sheet of water and was enveloped in a sheet of icy acid.

Dean screamed.  

He didn't open his eyes until Cas' rough hands, petting at him nervously, brought him back out of his head.  The pain was gone, though he didn't trust that anymore, not after that last... contraction?  Was that what the fuck those were?   

"Dean, wake up.  Dean.  You're alright.  She's here."

Dean blinked and looked around blearily as Cas lifted his upper body into his arms so Dean had a better view of the room.

 

Her hair was long and wavy, darker than Dean's but not by much. Her eyes were summer under the hot sun. She looked around the room as though cataloguing everything she saw into a list in her mind; he could almost see her thinking "these are the things of humans".

"Fathers."  Her voice was lilting and sweet, and it sounded nothing like either one of them.

Dean loved her.

He couldn't explain it, but he loved her immediately.

She called him 'father', so thankfully he didn't need to think about that one too hard, especially after what he could only describe as debilitating contractions. 

She approached them.  She was fully clothed, somehow, in dress clothes, like the other angels.  She looked about 18, which Dean also tried not to think too hard about.  Angel magic, apparently, included dressing and aging children, which he was 100% onboard with considering he got to skip all the diaper changing.  She climbed onto the bed with them snuggled into both of their embraces, and to Dean's mortification ,tears clouded his eyes as he realized she smelled like his mother used to. 

Mary. Yes, that was a good name for her.

Oh god, how he loved her.  

He didn't want to let go, and she seemed perfectly content to breathe in the scent of Cas' shoulder and laugh at how they cried over her, feeling Dean's hair curiously and running a hand along his cheek as though discovering what it was to touch another person. 

Castiel had explained to Dean that she would have a lot of instinctual knowledge about life from sharing a soul with Dean for months, so Dean was curious to find out what she knew and what she didn't.  He imagined it would be a lot like the first time he met Cas, his baby in a trenchcoat, and reteaching him all over again in their daughter. 

Eventually Sam made it back, his hair wild and windswept as he took in the scene in the bedroom, his eyes panicked.  Mary called him uncle and ran to hug him too. Dean felt empty when she left his side, even just to cross to the other side of the room, and he knew he was totally gone on her. 

Cas was grinning, wiping a stray tear from his eyes before he kissed Dean's cheek.

"I want to apologize to you for accidentally impregnating you, but I can't manage to feel sorry about it.  I haven't been able to since the moment I realized."  Cas whispered so just Dean could hear.  Sam was crying too, that sap, and Mary was laughing joyously and wiping at his tears.  She lifted a wet finger to her tongue and tilted her head curiously.  Sam watched her in surprise and then started laughing. 

"I'm not sorry, either." Dean smiled, watching Sam pull Mary into a hug again. 


End file.
